One Summer In New York. Trish Wylie
from his jacket pocket, Jeremy let himself into a back room.
Ethan pulled a chair next to Holly’s.
“Check these out!” she exclaimed at the glass case to the left of them.
A heritage collection of gemstone jewelry was on display. Elaborate necklaces and bracelets made from pounds of gold and carat upon carat of colorful stones. The pieces were too ornate for her taste, but she was attracted to the hues.
What had really caught her eye was a simple ring of blue topaz. The stone was a large oval cut, bordered on each side by two small diamonds.
“Look at how stunning that ring is. That blue is so brilliant it’s blinding. Light is bouncing off it in twenty different directions.”
Holly’s eyes were light blue, like the stone. It had always been her favorite color from as far back as she could remember. Maybe that was why she’d instantly fallen in love with the sky-blue evening gown Ethan had bought for her.
While it had always been pink for girls and blue for boys Holly, as usual, had swum against the stream. It wasn’t as if the trailer she’d lived in with her mom and brother had had any décor to it. The walls had been covered in flowery peeling wallpaper. Sheets and blankets had always been chosen by what was on clearance sale, which had usually translated to scratchy fabrics with dark prints. But Holly could remember a few occasions when her father had been in town for a day or so with some money and bought her new clothes. She’d always chosen items in shades of blue.
“It’s just dazzling,” she continued, pointing to the ring. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Ethan glanced over to it and shrugged his shoulders, indifferent.
Jeremy returned with two velvet trays that held a wide variety of ring styles, all with humongous diamonds.
Ethan whispered to Holly, “We ought to be able to find something perfect amongst these.”
She shot one final glance at the astounding blue topaz. “Whatever you say. You’re the boss...”
* * *
“Feng, we will start with hot and sour soup. Follow that with the chef’s special duck, beef with broccoli, shrimp chow mein. And oolong tea.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ethan.” The waiter bowed and hurried away.
After the jewelry store, Ethan had instructed Leonard to drive them to Chinatown. Now he and Holly were comfortably ensconced in a booth at a casual restaurant his family often frequented when they were in New York.
“I am famished,” Ethan proclaimed. “Shopping is exhausting.”
With a suitably enormous diamond engagement ring now on Holly’s finger, the day’s checklist was complete. They had been downtown, midtown, and now back downtown, but he was craving familiar food.
“Do you do a lot of shopping?” Holly questioned.
“I suppose I do my fair share, but it is not an activity I have a feeling for one way or another,” he lied.
Watching Holly model one comely outfit after another would rank pretty darn high on his list of pleasurable pastimes. Although a lot of his other work had been accomplished today as well, thanks to the convenience of technology. Securing a fiancée had been at the top of his to-do list.
“Do you...” Holly twirled a lock of her raven hair “...shop for women on a regular basis?”
Hmm...fishing, was she?
“Women have dragged me to find gold in China, the finest silks in India, the best leather in Buenos Aires, if that is what you are asking.”
She brushed her bangs out of her eyes and sat up straight. “Oh.”
The previous women in his life were a sore point with him. In fact Ethan and women had never been a good combination, period. Going all the way back to his mother. Other than Aunt Louise, every woman Ethan had encountered seemed to him to be one hundred percent selfish. Only out for what they could get. Gifts, money, travel, status—you name it.
Which was why he was resolute that he’d never fall in love. To love you had to trust. And that was something he was never going to be tricked into again.
So it was a logical step for him to dream up this scheme that would allow Aunt Louise to think Ethan had found lifelong love as she had with Uncle Mel. Ethan would never have to marry a woman whose motivation he’d question. Intention, compensation and expectation were all upfront with this plan. It might be the brainiest partnership deal he’d ever conceived.
“Hot and sour soup.” Feng placed the steaming bowl on the table. While he ladled out two servings he questioned, “May I ask if Mrs. Louise is feeling better?”
His aunt Louise had been in New York several times in the past few months. Feng had probably seen her more recently than Ethan had.
“Was she unwell when she was last here?”
The waiter pursed his lips and bowed his head, which said more than any words could.
Ethan’s heart sank. This validated the fact that he was on the right track. Doing whatever it took to get Aunt Louise to retire and relax in Barbados before worse things than stumbles and bruises stole her dignity.
It was all going to work out.
As long as Ethan continued to stare past but not into Holly Motta’s face. Because when he did steal a glance she didn’t look like a business proposition. Or a gold-digger out to get what she deemed hers. With that slouch she kept correcting, and that milky skin, and the hint of ache in her eyes...
No, she was a living, breathing, kindred spirit who could shred his master plan into a million slices if he wasn’t careful.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked with her spoon in the air.
“Like what?” Ethan threw back his head with an exaggerated nonchalance.
She gave him a mock frown.
“Eat your soup,” he told her.
One very ungenteel slurp later... “Yummo!”
“We should learn more about each other if we are to be convincing as a couple. You clearly like food.”
He mocked her slurp until they were both laughing.
“My turn,” she said. “You’re an only child.”
“You have one brother.”
“You studied at Oxford.”
“What is your favorite movie?”
Holly dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Are you kidding me? If we’re going to get to know each other we have to get real. What is the one thing that has hurt you the most in your life?”
His mother. Of course it was his mother. Nothing could devastate a nine-year-old boy more than being left behind by his mother. It was horrible enough that his father had died instantly when a drunk driver had plowed into his car at racing speed, killing him instantly. But then shortly after that to lose his mother in the way he had... It was unthinkable.
“Beef with snow peas. Shrimp chow mein. Chef’s special duck,” Feng announced as he and another waiter positioned the platters in the center of the table. “Please enjoy.”
Saved by the duck.
Ethan wasn’t going to expose his darkness and despair to someone he’d met only yesterday. As a matter of fact he wasn’t in the habit of talking about his feelings with anyone. It was better that way.
He scooped a portion of each dish onto his and Holly’s plates.
But wasn’t it rather amazing that this woman was so genuine she didn’t want to discuss trivial matters?
As she lifted her chopsticks to grab at her chow mein he admired